- iTz Mr Quincy
- |
- Intrepid Heroic Member
AL is preventing me from having fun. It is also preventing a lot of people from having fun. People who defend AL say they can live without it. It is obviously unfair in many ways.
SO WHY DON'T WE REMOVE/TWEAK IT?
Also, yes, I do goose.
Chapter VI: Joining
A bond. The special bond it thought it would never have. A parasite, sharing a bond belonging to only the joining of individuals, both of them willingly. But he was no individual. It mattered not.
The meeting was less than half a day away. It was obviously very important to Searcher, as it might have meant his relationship with the human race forever. It also meant whether his love would truly love him back, or not. Would she be disgusted by his outer look, and not care of his intelligence? Would she be like the human he always imagined, one that ran away from danger, even if it was not dangerous? Would she be him, the one who ran away without giving a thought that ran from anything sharp, slimy, or gross?
He remembered back to the time when he was infected, and felt the power for the first time. The time he was disgusted with himself, when he wanted to change back into a human. He couldn't remember much about his human life. It seemed like years ago. He remembered a few scenes of his life, some happy, some sad, some morbid. They were his only memories of him being human.
The time being a child. He sled down the slide at a park, his mother and father there comforting him. He climbing things, almost like a monkey. He never ran out of energy, he never tired. He felt like an explorer, venturing into the far lands of the park. The slides were his vines, to go from place to place. The steps were his vines, which he would use to get to high places, and see the sights. The playthings, like the tic-tac-toe board and steering wheel, were ancient Indian puzzles, set to kill robbers. And the leaves scattered around the playground, the plastic trees he was inside and played in only solidified the dream. It set it in motion.
The time being married. He came up onto the platform, with his best man, Paul. They had been friends from high school, and stuck together through college. His bride, he met 2 years ago. He planned to ask sooner, but he always chickened out. He regretted not asking her sooner. She stepped out, in her beautiful wedding dress and high heels. She wore the million dollar diamond ring he had bought her. "Here comes the Bride" rang throughout the church, through the organ in the back. She was beautiful. She was perfect. She was his. He was hers. A speech, their vows, love, and a kiss sealed it all.
The time at a funeral. His best friend, Paul, had died at the age of 28. They all wore black. The service was depressing. His wife was the only one to comfort him. He tried to show the up-most respect to his best friend by not crying, but keeping a sad face. The latter was easy. The former was not. It was even so hard, he could not do it. A single tear slipped out of his eye at the end of the service, and he could not contain the rest. He sat there, looking at the casket from afar. It was continued for another 2 hours, straight. His last words, at the hospital were happy, that he had no regrets, other than taking a few more cookies from the cookie jar than he should have. Mark (or Searcher, at least now) knew him for 12 years. He would know him for no longer, but only through memory.
The time that his son was born. He had been in the hospital all night. It was 3:37 AM. His wife had a deathgrip on his hand, and felt like she was trying with all of her might to pull it off. She was in a lot of pain, obviously. One last cry of "Push!" from the doctor, and out came another soul he had to commit his life to. The doctors lowered the baby into its mother's arms, and then they had to come up with a name. They had no idea what to name him. They didn't think of this at all, and it was awkward when they were asked to think of one. They at last decided on a name. Isaac.
The time that his wife, and son, both died. Mark was at work. A few miles away from his homely cubicle, his wife was being threatened with life or death. A common thief, a robber had entered their home, and demanded money. They had none to give, for they were already deep into financial debt. The robber didn't believe her. A shot rang through the air, and a body dropped to the ground. The boy, 4 of age now, not knowing better, went downstairs to investigate. Those would be his last actions he ever made. When Mark had returned home, he saw his wife and his son, both laying on the ground dead. His son was shot in the heart. His wife was shot in the lung, and probably suffered a slow and painful death. After the tragic event and the service for it, he spent months inside his home, only going out to buy food. He lead a sad, and easily tempered lifestyle afterwards.
Until now of course. He had moved on. He was happy. He had not been happy for years time, but he was happy now. He took out his pocket knife again. Then, he started to make some modifications to it. He spread his skin across it. Not any of its components, but its base. He now had a weapon he could use, one he could hide on his body, and was undetectable. He now had an emergency weapon and tool, which he could use if he was captured, or something of that nature.
He spent the rest of the day looking at the knife. He would look at one tool for hours, and then moved on to the next. It was reminiscence of when Carl died. It brought back bad memories. He continued on anyway. When he reached the 5th tool, a screwdriver, he heard a rustle in the bush from a few hundred feet away. She was coming.
In fear, he instantly went behind a bush, and started to form himself from the original, to the modified original. He heard more rustling from the bushes. She was drawing nearer. He took the shavings, and flung them to the ground in front of him. He made these spread into the ground, and act as his escape route, where he could instantly spread his skin across. The ground below became infected, in small parts. He sprang up a little pole, something he could find easily, and latch onto quickly. He heard more rustling. She came into the clearing.
"Hello?" she said in a somewhat scared voice. Searcher could not blame her. She had no idea what she was about to face.
"Hello. Are you Suzan, the one I kept sending letters to?" he replied.
"I am. Are you... Searcher?"
He took the courage to step out from behind the tree.
"I am."
He expected a frightened face, one that feared him. He got an excited, and warming one, that absolutely admired him.
"Well, it's nice to meet you."
She took out her arm, and raised it in the gesture of a handshake. After thinking for a minute, Searcher did the same. They shook hands. The mark of civility.
"As it is you."
"So... what are you?"
"I am, unfortunately, flood. But I have control over myself, as do I my other forms."
She had not a frightened face, but more inquiring. She looked at him strangely, as if he was crazy.
"The flood was eradicated a few weeks ago, by the Master Chief. They said that they destroyed the core, thus destroying all of the other forms with it. I saw it first hand. Flood had invaded our town, but after a short while, they just died. They blew up. Their smaller pieces disintegrated on spot."
"When I was human, the flood had attacked my home. I had run away, like I always did. I realized that was a big mistake. I started to run back to my home, only to be caught by a flood form. It chased after me, and was faster. It started to infect me, and before it infected my brain to its entirety, it just stopped. I heard screaming, which I now presume was the Gravemind while it was being eradicated."
"Hm. Did you not wish to be human again?"
"I did, at first. When I encountered a bear in the forest, and by I guess flood instinct, I infected it. It was me, and I was it. I knew all of its knowledge. It was an amazing feeling. I experimented more, and found out I could shape-shift, and even become multiple beings at once. At this point, I do not really care to be human anymore. I am happy."
"I wish I could say the same."
"Is something wrong?"
"I just lost my job a day before the meeting."
"What were you?"
"I was part of ONI. I knew secrets that others shouldn't have. When one of these secrets leaked out in a celebration, while I was drunk, I was fired for being a threat to the UNSC."
"Aren't you kept under watch?"
"Surprisingly, no."
"I guess you must be lucky. I once knew a person who went mad during a mission, and was fired and put into a mental hospital. He was even put into a straight jacket."
"It's not like I went crazy!"
"Sorry."
"Changing the subject, you said something about shape-shifting?"
"Ah, yes. I can mold my body into certain forms, by shedding off and reattaching parts of my body."
"Care to give an example?"
"What would you wish to be created?"
"How about something simple, like a dog?"
"Watch."
He started down first. Then, he started to shed skin, but forced it back into his body as to not disgust his love. He made smooth parts hairy, and easily movable. He shaped his mouth so that it was long, and his snout was near the tip. He made his ears long, his 4 feet 3 toed. He was now a dog.
"Is this to your liking?"
"Wow. The mimicry is perfect."
"I'm glad you like it."
"Wouldn't you be able to use this form... to live amongst us?"
"What do you mean?"
"I could say I found a stray, and kept him. That stray could be you."
"I'm afraid that's a wish I cannot grant."
"Why?"
"Would you like to conceal your true identity all the time, and live a controlled life? This is something the previous flood would have done."
"Have you not absorbed animals into you, thereby taking away their freedom forever, while they are doomed to watch?"
"The animals I have absorbed have no minds anymore. Their minds could not take the stress. Its obvious that humans, sangheili, and other sentient species can take it, or I would not be alive today. These animals are now dead without me."
"Then you killed them."